On Ice
by nomnomfood
Summary: In Rikkaidai, you're either on top, or you're weak. The subtle nuances and politics of Rikkaidai eventually ensnare everybody, but when one girl transfers specifically for that pull, things turn out to be pretty interesting for everybody. Here, among the best, people will go very far to ensure their ranking. OCx?
1. Chapter 1

A note on names: When the first name and surname are together, the last name is introduced first, i.e. Echizen(surname) Ryoma(first name). When only one name is written, it will typically be the first name. If I make a mistake in this (as I am likely to do) please notify me and I will fix it.

A note on suffixes and how people address one another: Suffixes in Rikkaidai are important(or at least, I imagine them to be) so pay attention to how they address one another. If improperly addressed, it can blow up very quickly, which is why it's important to know where you rank. Most times when one person is talking to another and uses their name in speech, they address them by their last name, unless they are familiar with one another, or they are not abiding by 'social norms'.

* * *

Masui Akemi did not speak as she walked out the wooden door that led to the pathway out. When she stood right outside her house, key out and ready to lock the doors, she waited for three seconds. She opened the door again, just a smidge, and said, "I'm leaving." It was no surprise when nothing answered her. The walls of the house absorbed her voice. Even houses get lonely, sometimes. It was awfully quiet when the only consistent inhabitant was a petite girl who made no disturbances most days, other than the light sound of her breathing.

The house was a lonely existence. It had been made for a family of six, yet one by one, all of its inhabitants disappeared except for one. And she was too straight-laced to make a difference; not a thing in the house was out of place when she left the house every morning at six. When she came back in the afternoon, not a thing was touched. From that time up until the time she left again, only a few things were out of place, and even then, not for very long. Right after she cooked, she would clean up and put everything back into the cupboards. Every two days, Akemi vacuumed the house and dusted everything down. It wasn't like there was much to clean anyways. Even in her own room, the wood floor was spotless, her bed was always made unless she was in it, and the few school materials that were kept there were always put back right after she was finished. It was a house in wait; a house waiting to be used, to be loved and enjoyed.

Now the house was locked up, and Akemi did not spare another glance backwards as she pushed a button so the iron wrought gates that stood in front of her opened and closed. It was a little bit more than a house, after all; it was a small mansion. Smoothing the blue-green tie she wore on her neck, she started on her thirty minute walk to school.

Setting a brisk pace, she pointedly ignored the car that had been trailing her ever since she left the house. He was not very discreet at this sort of thing, and when she had a thought to spare, Akemi wondered if his father did not reprimand him for going on these excursions to follow her. At the five minute mark, she stopped in the same spot she had for the past two weeks. She did not need to look behind her to know the mercedes pulled up behind her; the purring of the engine and the sound of a window rolling down was sufficient. She turned anyways. "Atobe-san. It's good to see you again."

"Akemi," Atobe said, and if she were any lesser, she would have flinched. They had known each other for a while, but that was no excuse for him to call her without an honorific. But she knew her place, and even if her family was on good terms with his, it would make no sense to aner him. Today, he got down to business quickly. "When are you going to stop being foolish and come to Hyotei?"

"Atobe-san, I apologize, but I do believe that where I choose to go to school is my own choice. Both of my parents approved of my decision, and Rikkaidai has nearly the same facilities as Hyotei. There is no reason for me not to go." She gave a quick bow and began to walk again. The mercedes kept following her.

"There are plenty of reasons for you not to go to Hyotei. One of them being that it's an extra twenty minutes of walking that you wouldn't have to do. It is much further away from your second house." Atobe had one arm hanging outside of the car, and his every move oozed confidence. His blue-grey gaze settled on the girl he had known for years. His family introduced him to the Masui family when he was a child, but he did not get the priviledge of seeing their daughter until she was ten and he was twelve. She was introduced to him because her family had the impression she would attend Hyotei that year, entering in the same year he would.

At first, he was dubious; the girl was two years his younger, and she would still enter his grade. If she was a year younger, he would understand, as there were quite a few people whose birthdays made it possible to move up a year. Apparently, the reason why he had not met her before was because she had been studying abroad, and one of those schools had moved her up a year. Her parents would not have her repeat a year, as that would be one of the ultimate disgraces. Besides, if she was smart enough to get to a grade higher, she was smart enough to stay at that grade.

When she turned to him, her eyes showed him everything that he didn't understand. Atobe had always been good at reading people, but he could still not fathom her decisions and how her mind worked two years later. "Walking is a healthy habit, Atobe-san. One must keep in shape somehow. Now, if you'll excuse me." She bowed again as another black car came up to the curbside. "I will take my leave. It appears as though mother and father have sent for me."

The chauffeur opened the door the lamborghini that was undoubtedly one of her parents cars. Her parents hadn't sent for her, of course, she had been getting tired of making up reasons to walk to Rikkaidai when Atobe was there, and in the past week, she accepted rides from him twice. Both times had been an uncomfortable time, in which he stared at her, trying to open her up. If there was another car, he would not be able to drive her. It was a pity though, because she enjoyed her walks to and from school. It was a time of peace, and a time to get her thoughts straight. It only took ten minutes to get to school.

"Thank you, Izumi." She nodded to the chauffeur who held the door open for her. At this time in the morning, there were no students present, so she did not have to worry about anybody seeing her car. She tried to avoid flaunting her wealth as much as possible, seeing as the majority of it was not hers to begin with.

"No problem, miss," Izumi said respectfully, tipping his cap in her direction. He enjoyed driving her much more than he did her little sister or brother. She was quiet and didn't demand much, though he often worried about how quiet she was.

When the car drove off, she went straight to the student council room and immersed herself in blissful work.

#

Atobe Keigo's life was structured. It wasn't planned down to the minute; he was not an excessive planner, but, he did not do things that were unnecessary. Which is why he was questioning the fact that he had gone out of his way to ask one single girl to go to Hyotei. It shouldn't have mattered to him, whether or not she went to his school. He looked out the window of his car and grimaced at the sight of fangirls glomming on near his car. He turned his gaze back down to his phone and thought, perhaps it was important that Akemi went to his school. It would make his life much easier.

He drummed his fingers against his leg. It was annoying to deal with fangirls, but though the fangirls were bad, sometimes, when there was a person who worked up enough rage-or was foolish enough- to challenge him, he realized that it made his life much harder when there was not another equally important person of the opposite gender. Because if there wasn't, when girl neglected the male half of the population, things became rather messy for him.

Opening his phone and placing it to his ear, he had made a decision. "Niou? Do you know a girl named Masui Akemi?"

#

Sometimes, Akemi liked to believe that she went to Rikkaidai just because she did not want to endure going to a school like Hyotei, all based on money. If she had gone to Hyotei, she would have risen to the top within a day once they learned of her last name and the company associated with it. Well, companies, no longer just one.

She didn't go to Rikkaidai just for that. There would have been plenty of options that would have been easier and loser to the estate that her parents chose to live in. But she did not want to move, so she stayed in the house of her childhood instead, and the only alternative that was in a reasonable distance was Rikkaidai. Still, even that would have been a better reason than the one she chose. The reason she was going to Rikkaidai was to win. She had only gone to the school once before she entered it, but she knew from the moment she stepped foot over the premises that she belonged in Rikkaidai. It almost mirrored the high class world, what with all the intricacies and politics that went on with every word. And that was what she wanted- she wanted the thrill.

So, then, she supposed she could stand being sorted into class 3-A. Akemi didn't really want to be a part of the student council, but with her name and status, she had been sorted into the class without a second thought. There, she was thrown to the pack of wolves, on her very first day. The only thing that was a comfort was that here, her name was not Masui Akemi. Here, her name was Mitsuwa Akemi, and she was the one whose pride rested on that name. Not her parent's, not their money. Anything she did was solely hers, and she loved it.

"Please meet your new classmate, Mitsuwa Akemi." Even the teachers at Rikkaidai were involved in the subtle nuances of the school. They were very aware that class 3-A was where the vast majority of the student council members were, and the teacher briefly wondered why a transfer student got to hold a position there. It was not very often that they got transfers, after all.

She bowed and said, "It's nice to meet you all. I hope we get along."

The questions that came thereafter(for there was a ten minute time period that was allowed when a transfer student was admitted to get acquainted) were the simple ones, the ones that lulled their prey into a sense of false hospitality.

("What's you favorite color?" asked one. "Gold," she said, and it was a good reply, one that corresponded with the regular jerseys of their school.

Another said, "Where do you parents work?" It took her a moment before her reply came. "Both of them work at Masui Corporations. My mother is on the PR team while my father works in the finance section." Both of which, technically, were not lies, though they were a little bit twisted from the truth. Her parents ran the thing, and those were the two 'job positions' that they were most in line with.)

Then, the harsher questions came, said in sweet, rosy tones, but with thorns dipped in poison. "What's your spot on the student council?" This one was a girl with natural charisma, a certain kind of confidence and cockieness to her fluid motions. "I'm Ayasaka Chieko, Student Council President."

"I look forward to working with you. I am the treasurer of the Student Council." She gave the room a quick glance, looking for Nakamura Yumiko, finding her delicately perched on the edge of her seat next to a person who had magenta hair and wore glasses. She rose her hand, quicksilver and did not wait to be called on. "You mean that you're going to be on the treasury committee, correct?"

Akemi almost-almost- pitied the brown haired girl. Being on the student council was the only thing that made her recognizable to the student population. She did not sports her grades were only just good enough to stay on the student council as the president of the Treasury Committee. "No. I will be the President of the Treasury Committee." The other girl fumbled, ran her hands through her hair as a calming gesture. To be forced to drop from your position was a humiliation. Akemi, ho hadn't even been a student at Rikkaidai for an hour, knew this because she could see it in everybody else's eyes. Right now, Yumiko Nakamura was nothing more than prey for this classroom.

The Student Council President did not narrow her eyes, and after that episode, nobody asked her more questions. Chieko smiled and pointed to the seat beside her, the one that Yumiko had just fled from. "Sit here, so I can get to know you better." It went unspoken that Nakamura Yumiko would undoubtedly be transferred to a different class. Nobody went after Yumiko.

The teacher continued the lesson like there was nothing wrong, because to the class, nothing was. Akemi almost shivered and instead wondered why she transferred here of all places, the one that was eerily similar to the adult world, even more so than Hyotei. In the moment that Chieko smiled to her and passed her her phone number, Akemi knew exactly why. She had condemned herself to this fate because she needed to find her drive, she needed to find the will to do more than just survive in the delicate position in the adult world that she was. She needed to know how to win, how to crush somebody until they broke, because if she wouldn't, somebody would break her.

And in her heart, Akemi knew that what she had told herself earlier were lies. She didn't thrive off the thrill of breaking people; she did not thrive off of winning. But by her word, she would learn how to thrive in this kind of environment, no matter what it took. If it took throwing her current self away, she would do it.

She would be willing to tear herself apart and rebuild from the ground up, if that was what it took. So she did.

#

Read, reread, stamp. Read, reread, stamp. Read, reread, stamp. It was a monotonous thing to do, reading over the proposals of all of the sports teams and competition level teams with requests. All of them requested more funds, all of them requested more equipment. All of them had not won their last competition. Right now, the seal she had out was the one that rejected forms with an ugly red ink that instantly let them know they would not be receiving what they wanted. Within the short time she was at Rikkaidai, she had already earned herself dozens of harsh glares and threatening papers warning her to resign. Apparently the last treasurer, Yumiko, had approved every single one of them, thinking that it was little more than a popularity test. So now, Akemi was on the verge of screaming and tearing up every single last paper within grasp. But she didn't, because that would be childish, and above all, foolish.

Akemi had been sorting through the paperwork and making budget calculations for last hour and a half. Even though there was a treasury committee, they didn't do nearly as much work as she did. They did the initial screening process, but not a single one of them rejected any of the clubs. The door opened and behind it was Genichiro Sanada. "Sanada-san, good morning," she said without looking up from her paperwork. The first time she woke up early to stamp these papers, she looked him in the eyes and his had flickered to the large amount of paperwork that had red marks splayed across the desk.

"Likewise, Mitsuwa-san." Most were surprised that he did not call her Mitsuwa-chan, or simply Mitsuwa, but he held a certain degree of respect for her. After the first week, she had been sorted into the 'duchess' area of the school. If one likened the school to the hierarchal system of old Europe, the captains of winning teams and the student council president were kings and queens. Regulars of winning teams were princes, those on the student council were nobles, and anybody else was a peasant. Of course, that was a rather broad range, and there were certain cases where social class rules were not as likely to apply, or rather, the people were important enough to ignore them.

He pulled up a chair opposite her and pulled out a roster from the disciplinary section of the paperwork. From the cup of pens on the desk, he took a vibrant red one and began to scan the list, making marks here or there. On his right side was the grade roster, one that showed the results of the recent tests teachers had given them. Genichiro sighed when he came across a name on the grade list and made a mark next to another name. Akemi did not ask him why he sighed, and he appreciated that.

It was a comfortable silence, a comfortable routine. When she entered his class, he had been wary of her, more so when she appeared in the Student Council Room even before he did. Nonetheless, she had a calming presence, and a rhythm to her work. It was much more peaceful than the hallways, the regular Student Council, any of the sports banquets, and definitely more peaceful than the tennis team.

Genichiro did not know from what time she got here, but judging by the papers she went through every day before he got there, she had to have been there for at least an hour or two. It was admirable, the quiet determination and tenacity she had. After only half an hour, he stood up, tucked the papers back in a folder, and bid her goodbye. She stayed there and continued to work. He thought that whatever club she did end up joining would be blessed with a hard worker.

The Student Council President walked in a few minutes after Genichiro left. "Good morning, Ayasaka-sama." The tone was neutral, but this time, she did look up from her work. Right after Genichiro had left, she piled up the papers in a neat stack and only kept about ten out to look at. She would have to leave soon to get to class anyways.

"Good morning to you as well, Akemi-chan." The student council president got to call all of the members by the suffixes of -chan or -kun, and typically, she got to call them by their first names too. The only exception was Genichiro, who stood on the same level as her because he was both a student council member and the vice-captain of their winning tennis team.

Akemi had her timing down to a science. She knew exactly when the President would come in and always finished right before she came in. She stood and filed her papers away. "So, Akemi-chan, have you decided what club you're going to join yet? If you haven't, you could always join the tennis club. I am in it as well, and could show you the ropes."

When the two of them strode down the hallways, people bowed to them in greeting. "It would be nice to try a few of the clubs before deciding on one. It's not good to limit oneself." She smiled in greeting to a few of the more notable people that they passed. "However, if it's possible, I would like to try the tennis club today, as long as there is an extra racquet that I can use." It was a rather noncommittal answer.

"Is that so?" The students in front of them opened the door for them. They were some of the few students in class 3-A that were not a part of the student council. Both of them greeted the student council members, letting them go in first. "It sounds lovely."

#

Akemi stood on the courts with her physical education uniform and a borrowed racquet in her hand. Despite the fact that Chieko had told her she would show her the ropes, she did not keep up her promise. She figured out how to work the ball machines herself, and set them to the lowest setting. Then, she began to hit. At most, her swings were half-hearted, but she wasn't entirely bad. There was no passion though, she knew even before she began to hit the balls back. She played tennis before, and though she might have been okay at it, the only joy she felt was after she won a match. She wanted something more.

A girl with a white skirt and a fitted yellow tank top with black accentuating her curves smiled at her. "Hello, are you the new third year? Mitsuwa-chan, right?" This girl was obviously a regular. Nobody else would have called her so familiarly.

"Yes, I am, may I inquire your name?" The ball machine continued to shoot balls at her, and it would be rather difficult for her to shut it off now that the other girl turned the speed up. Instead of responding with her name, the girl said, "You're accuracy is very good, but you're hitting it at such a low speed. Why don't we turn it up?"

Then, the girl with blonde hair and a dazzling smile turned both machines up to full speed. This was Rikkaidai. These were the wolves that would always win. They traveled in packs, but they were strong on their own as well. They were cunning, and they felt the need to show others their place. At least, Akemi thought grimly, it wasn't as bad as the boys machines. On her way over, she saw them with the newest, fastest ball machines that were on the market. She knew exactly how fast they went, because she was the one who approved them. Even now, at full speed, the machines that were spitting balls out at her couldn't have been more than three quarters the speed the boys machine had.

Right now, Akemi was grateful that she had taken an interest in a lot of different sports when she was younger, or else she surely would not have been able to hit the balls back. No longer did they end up rolling into a neat pile, but rather, they were hit everywhere and anywhere, lucky that she was able to keep the balls from hitting herself. "Not bad, Mitsuwa-chan," the girl called, finally shutting the machines off. "I clearly underestimated you. My name is Sakuya Watanabe, and I am the vice-captain of the girl's tennis team. Are you joining?"

Akemi wiped her sweat off with the back of her hand. "I'm not sure yet, Watanabe-san-"

"Please, call me Watanabe-chan,"

"Watanabe-chan," she corrected herself. "I'm still looking around."

"Well, if you don't find anywhere else, we'll be glad to have you." It was almost-almost an offense that she did not accept her invitation. Almost, but not quite. If she hadn't bowed to her right after she made the statement, it would have been an offense, but she did, so for now, everything was okay. "You're a good player." She eyes the girl standing opposite of her. "Have you met the boys team yet?"

"No, I have not." She's heard of them though,she knew everything about them on her first day. She didn't really want to meet them either, but she did not raise a protest when Sakuya dragged her off to the boys courts. When she asked why, she was met with the response of, "Once you see them, you'll never want to leave. After all, it's only the girl's tennis team that is allowed to practice with them sometimes."

The non regular practice did not seem to be any more harrowing for the boys than it was the girls. She nodded politely to those that recognized her, but didn't respond to any questions they asked. Right now, Akemi was still in the process of making her new self, and she didn't want rumors of a reputation getting out before she changed herself. Sakuya tugged on her arm a little bit more, getting impatient. Akemi thought it was rather curious that the girl's tennis team was so lax and allowed the vice-captain to show new members to the boys team, but that really wasn't any of her concern; it was the captain's concern, and if she couldn't control her team, that was her fault.

"Sanada-kun," the girl called out, waving both hands in the air as she approached. "Have you missed me? I'm here with a potential recruit, and she looked really good out on the courts." That was an exaggeration, Akemi was sure, because if she was good, then the girl's tennis club was lower than she expected. She would cut their funds, but since the Student Council President was in the tennis club, she probably would not allow it. In recent years, they had not advanced farther than prefectures, and it was a mockery to Rikkaidai, because the girls were so far below the boys team.

Again, Sakuya called "Sanada-kun," and Akemi almost flinched. That suffix and the President of the Disciplinary Committee did not seem to go together at all, in any sense. The majority of the time, Akemi interacted with Genichiro when one or the other was sitting, sometimes both. She had not realized how much taller he was than her, and had not talked to him enough to realize that tennis was his passion. His eyes burned as he looked at the other members training, but she could not tell if he wanted to kill those doing poorly, or step out into the courts himself and play. It was a combination of the two, she guessed.

Only when the two of them were right next to the vice-captain of the tennis team that Genichiro finally acknowledged their presence. "Watanabe, I thought I told you not to bring any more of your players over here to gape at us. You have your own team to worry about, and I have mine." He didn't even glance her way.

"But Sanada-kun," she argued like a child, "This is one of your classmates, a student council member!" Finally, finally he turned his burning gaze over to her, spirit not the slightest bit dampened. The two of them stared at each other for a few seconds before either of them responded.

"Mitsuwa-san." Genichiro nearly grunted his greeting, though he did not seem that adverse to her presence. "I didn't know you played."

She still said nothing in return, and though Genichiro was accustomed to the girl taking a while to respond, there was something in her posture and eyes that changed now, and he wasn't sure what to make of it. As for Akemi, she knew what she wanted now. She wanted her eyes to burn like Genichiro's, with so much passion for what she did, that even when she was watching somebody could feel it in their bones-that she loved what she was doing. That was what she wanted.

And what somebody from the Masui family wanted, they got.

* * *

I think Rikkaidai is really interesting to write about. TBH I probably should finish my other fics, but I couldn't resist posting this. Happy new year and holidays(though its a bit late).

It would be wonderful if people reviewed and told me how they like Akemi and her interactions. I feel like sometimes she's not main-character worthy, but she's a pretty strong person in the end. Also, if Sanad seems a little bit OC, I just couldn't figure out how to write him. Many people write him either as a)stoic, talks very little or b)always pissed. I don't think my writing style goes well with writing that, so I sort of just made him fit with what I wanted to achieve.

As always, I love reviews, favorites, and followers!


	2. Chapter 2

If there was one word to describe the Rikkaidai boy's tennis regulars right now, it would be bored. They loved tennis to no end, each in their own way, but nothing interesting had happened in a while. They needed something to spice up their life. That was why, for the first time ever, when there were whispers on the courts that the vice-captain of the girl's team and a new prospect showed up, they went. It hadn't happened before; they were too afraid of more fangirls, but at this moment, all they wanted was some excitement. A challenge.

"I bet you ten dollars that Sanada-fukubuchou will yell at them to get off the courts," said Kirihara Akaya. He carried his racket under his arm and turned his head back to see Marui Bunta. Masaharu Nio answered him instead.

"Aw, little Akaya is taking it awfully safe today." Though he was the trickster, he typically only dealt verbal abuse to his opponents-and to Akaya. It was just too easy to tease him. The boy in question scoffed.

Akaya rolled his eyes, a clear disrespect to his elder, but one they were accustomed to. He never did it in the presence of the three monsters, so there was nothing to fear. "Fine, Masaharu, what do you bet?"

Nio twirled his silver rattail and looked ahead thoughtfully. A smile curved on his face. "I bet that one of them ends up playing a match with one of the boys that aren't a regular. Ten dollars." Bunta let out a long whistle after he popped the bubble gum he was chewing. It was always entertaining to watch these bets, but typically whatever Masaharu bet on ended up happening. Akaya didn't believe him.

"I bet ten dollars that won't happen," Akaya declared, foolishly thinking he would win, though he lost his allowance and lunch money to his fellow regular on almost a daily basis. Thinking better of it, he amended his statement. He was stupid at times, but he wasn't that foolish. Most of the time, at least. "Make that five dollars, and cancel the other one that I bet on."

It was a good choice, too, because when he looked in the vice-captain's direction, he realized that it was very likely for the newcomer to play a match with somebody. Genichiro's silent fire in his eyes had not burned out, like it so frequently did when the girl's vice captain brought new recruits over, like it did when he met people off the courts, in things not involving tennis. The girl gazed back at him with a gaze just as strong, but to Bunta, it felt rather empty, and he shivered a little.

What the girl was doing should be considered an act of blatant defiance, yet nobody made a move to stop it. Genichiro continued to stare at her, even when she pulled her eyes away, and acted demure by tucking a wisp of hair behind her ear. "I can play, but I'm afraid that I'm not exactly up to Rikkaidai's standards."

Finally, the other girl intervened. "Don't listen to her, Sanada-kun, she's just being modest. She's a great player, really, she could manage all of the ball machines we have at full speed. I brought her over here for you to convince her to join the tennis team. It's always good to have strong new blood on the team."

"Who is she," Marui almost whispered. It was as if she had done a complete one-eighty in the span of milliseconds, changing from a strong girl who didn't back down to the epitome of a demure lady. All of the presence she had was gone, and the air felt like there was something missing. Although the vice captain of the girl's team was foolish at times, and she brought over players whenever she wanted, sometimes on a whim, it seemed like this time, she had a genuine reason. She wanted the girl to be on the tennis team, probably for good reason, seeing as if their team didn't win soon, they would be ostracized.

Hiroshi Yagyuu looked at the girl, thinking for a moment before placing her. "Mitsuwa Akemi, of class 3-A. She is the Student Council Treasurer." The girl who sent Nakamura Yumiko out the door crying, slipping into her spot as easy as could be. She caused so little trouble and did her job quickly and efficiently during their afternoon meetings, but the only reason he had paid attention to her was because Genichiro broke social status and called her with the prefix -san instead of none at all. It was very infrequent for him to do that, and the first time he heard his vice-captain call her that, he wondered what about her made him respect her so.

Even though she slipped in so easily, Yagyuu could not shake the feeling that she did not belong at Rikkaidai. She abided by the social expectations- did everything to cookie cutter perfection, paid attention to every line, and actually did her job- but she didn't fit. He couldn't place what made her different, but now he thought that the personality she showed for the majority of the time wasn't the one she knew best. Just now, when she was staring with a bit of a smile up at Genichiro- that seemed to be her comfort zone, and as soon as she began to stare downwards, everything about her was so wrong.

By the time his eyes found her figure again, Genichiro had paired her off with a random third year in the club, an extravagance he usually didn't grant to the girl's club. He didn't let the vice-captain of the girl's team stay, and yelled at the regulars to get back to work.

Same-old-Genichiro.

#

"Hello, it's nice to meet you. My name is Mitsuwa Akemi, from class 3-A." Judging from the pounding of a match he just finished, and the sweat dripping down his face, Akemi had no doubt in her mind that Genichiro had paired her up with one of the weaker boys. It was only natural, seeing as she was not even sure if she would end up remaining in the girl's tennis club. Most likely, the only reason why she was privileged with having a match was because the two of them got along fairly well.

Fairly well by Rikkaidai's standards, at least; both of them had respect for each other, and in a place where the weak were not tolerated, respect was a thing one could never be in short supply of. Respect was worth a hundred fangirls, fifty lovers, twenty friends. Most of all, it was hard to come by, especially considering the fact that she was a transfer student, one that hadn't picked a club at that.

The boy opposite her wiped off his sweat with a towel on the bench, baked to dryness by the sun above them. It scratched his face, and Akemi thought he would have been better off wiping it off with the back of his forearm. "Chien Akira, class 3-C." He eyed her, judging her by her Physical Education uniform, her reed-thin arms, and her short height. Even for him, there would be no challenge. It was Rikkaidai, after all. So, in an act that exemplified his superiority, Akira said, "I'll let you serve first."

She did not want to serve first. She barely remembered how to hit the ball back, and she was sure that her serves would not be accurate, strong, or fast. The only reason she was able to return the balls from the machine was because she had a good sense of timing, rhythm, a good flow. Serving was creating your own rhythm, making your own game plans. Her eyes drifted over to the next court, finding two boys dressed in the regular's uniform. The one with wavy black hair and green eyes served, and she almost shivered. Akemi would not be able to do that serve; it had been foolish of her looking over to the regulars for guidance on normal serving form.

Pretending to fix her shoelaces, she looked at another court, and this time, the players who stood on it were not regulars. When the first one served, her eyes burned the stance and posture into her mind. She looked over at another court, saw another serve, compared it with the last one. This time, the person threw the ball up in the air once, but let it come back down, unsatisfied. They were looking for the right place to hit the ball before hitting it around the center of their racket.

From the other side of the court, the boy smirked, sure of his victory. Akemi was sure that he would win as well, but there was no reason why she couldn't try now. She was too far in to quit anyways.

She bounced the neon-yellow ball on the courts, and at the same time it felt good and sturdy in her hands, it felt so wrong. It bounced once. It bounced twice. She thre it up to the sky and let her eyes follow it before it fell back down to the earth, into her hand.

She bounced it again, threw it, and locked her eye on the box diagonal to her. It hit the net. "Fault," Akira called, dubious that the girl would even be able to get a serve over now. Though he was sure he would win, he wanted somebody who would at least put up a fight, if not challenge him. He liked the thrill of challenge, and if she didn't, then there was no point in him even laying her, even if Genichiro had commanded it.

Down and up, down and up. Again, she threw the ball towards the heavens, and unlike last time, she did not let it fall back down to the earth and restart. The moment the racket touched the ball, her instincts told her that the ball would make it over the net, would make it into the box diagonal her. The few tennis lessons from years ago rushed back to her, but playing this game still felt wrong. It was still like what she had felt when she was younger; awkwardness, the feeling of being incomplete, no definitive urge to continue.

The ball made it in, but it was so weak that it's bounce barely made the ball pass the middle of the court. Akira had not been expecting that, though he should have. Complacency was ever his enemy, laziness, even more so. He sighed, deeply disappointed, but not invigorated with the thought of challenge. It had not been the girl's intention to hit such a shot, but it was still his fault for not returning it. He did not call out the score.

This time, when she served, it hit the net before going in, and Akira called, "fault," again. She did it again, but this time the ball was slightly out of the box, though the speed was slightly faster. Akira did not bother to call out the fact that he just earned a point.

Akemi bounced the ball on her racket for a few moments, finding that she only liked the feeling and sound when the ball hit a certain area of the racket. The sweet spot, she vaguely remembered. Glancing over at the court the regulars were playing on, she was envious of the beautiful sound that their rackets were able to make, and when the green eyed boy hit another serve, she longed to be able to recreate that sound.

She tried to copy his form, and she hit the ball harder this time. It created a better sound than it did the other times she served, but again, it hit the net. Then, she felt eyes on her, and she was certain that the green-eyed boy from the regulars team was looking her way. She turned and bounced the ball, seeing that Genichiro was also watching. For a moment, everything was different, and she was not standing on a tennis court, she was not standing with a racket in one hand, a ball in her other, and she was not underneath the beating sun.

Her heart quivered, and for a moment, three people saw a little flicker in unfocused eyes. It was brief, so brief, but it was enough to inspire a change. When she served this time, she did not try to copy the players she had been watching and let her body do what it wanted to. When she served, Akira thought she looked like she was coming down from the skies to grace him with her presence. Ther serve was an ace, not because it was extraordinarily fast, or impossible to hit, but because he was entranced. This time, he called out the score. "30-15, Mitsuwa leads." It was his shame that she was beating him, even if he was taking it easy, even if he wasn't trying at all. He didn't feel the shame.

Perhaps she hit her stride that game, because within her next four attempts at serving, two of them had been aces. "Game, Mitsuwa, 1-0."

Now, when Akira served, he was ruthless. The time for games was not now, not here, not ever in Rikkaidai. It was fast, but not incredibly so. Still, Akemi was unable to hit it back. He served again, and she move faster, handed down athleticism from her parents finally being used. She met the ball and swung, hitting the sweet spot, making a satisfying, but not-satisfying sound. It landed in the doubles alley. Now, she returned the favor, and called out the score. "Chien leads, 30-0."

When he served the next one, he double faulted, cursed, and berated himself for being careless. This was one of the main reasons why he was among the weakest in the club; not for lack of potential but for lack of accuracy, lack of perseverance. He served again, and she hit it back in the center of the court, right in front of him. It was an easy return, and he hit the ball softly.

In that game, she discovered that the way to make the racket emit the best sound was to hit the ball hard and in the center. Whenever she was able to catch up to the ball, she did just that, and it was hitting against the ball machines all over again. It was satisfying, but it was not enough to bring her back to the dazed state, where her eyes glazed over, and the only one there was herself. Tennis was not enough for that.

Forty minutes later, the game ended in Akira's favor, 6 games to 2. It was a marginal win, but by no means a respectable one. Anybody watching would have realized that the girl quickly evolved throughout the game, and clearly did not have much experience playing. The fact that she got two games on Akira meant that he was weaker than Genichiro expected. A pity, but for the strong to survive, there must be the weak to pick on. He was nothing more than fodder for the regulars, and he suspected that if the girl did continue with tennis, within a month's time, she would be able to reverse that score.

Akira and Akemi shook hands before she walked off. Akemi bowed to Genichiro and thanked him for letting her play, for letting her use the boy's courts. She didn't speak of coming back to try again and neither did he. When she left, practice continued as usual, and Akaya got extra laps for not paying attention during his match with Bunta.

#

"Genichiro, who was that girl you let play on the courts today?" Yukimura Seiichi was curious, but not concerned. Curious, but not so interested that he would track down the girl himself. She had potential, and for a moment, he saw a spark, but she was less than the worst on the boys team, and the difference between the worst and the best, was the difference between a mountain and a child's doll, buried under six feet of dirt.

Placing one of his rackets away, Genichiro didn't look up as he answered the question. "Mitsuwa Akemi. She's from my class, and she's on the Student Council."

On the Student Council? That did remind him… He should start going to those meetings, but he had a tennis club to run, and his own health to worry about. Besides, the principal cleared him from going to meetings until he felt up to it, and nobody begrudge Yukimura Seiichi, because that would be blasphemous. He was the Child of God, higher than Rikkaidai's social hierarchy, standing on top of it, never having any competition. He tapped his index on his finger twice before stopping, not wanting anybody to notice that he was fidgeting. He needed to fidget, to make sure he could still feel.

A month ago, he started having feelings of numbness, and the only way to prevent them was to be constantly moving in small ways. But the Child of God was not supposed to fidget, so he was very careful about when he stretched out his fingers or arms. "Going home, Genichiro?"

"Yes." He stood back up and looked at Seiichi. They did not bid one another goodbye, and seiichi twisted and turned once he was gone, sure that there was nobody else who would stop by the club room. It was weakness, he knew, to succumb to not being able to feel in a match. It was death. The only way to fix his problem was to practice on his own, when nobody would look at him expectantly, needing him to play his best. Playing against the wall, Seiichi found that the street that had been continually piling up every day was lessened every time he successfully hit the ball against the concrete wall.

The subtle nuances of his form changing with every stroke, morphing to fit it, could be considered nothing less than an art form. Overhead, the lights turned on, and he was mildly surprised. He didn't think that they were programmed to go on now, when most of its inhabitants left an hour ago. Everybody left by sunset, and now, the moon had risen into the sky.

He would stop now, but he couldn't find it in him to go home, not yet. At home, he was reminded that there was something wrong with him nearly every moment. He would gaze at something he dropped unwillingly, something that slipped out of his grasp. He would feel his sister's eyes on him, watching his move like she knew something was wrong too. He would sense his parent's sympathy, as if they knew something he didn't. He didn't want to go home to be surrounded full of emotions like that. Instead, he would rather stay at the empty school, and look at the little things that he never had the time to, not when he was busy being the Child of God. It was a full time job, after all, and only now, when nobody was here, was he allowed any kind of a reprieve.

Seiichi stopped at the gardens, relishing how the moonlight cast an ethereal look about them, dewdrops glistening in the dim light. He was pleased that they had been watered, seeing as it was not very often he had the time to water them themselves. Last year, he had been able to, but this year, he couldn't. And the more he did, the more scared he got that he would fail.

At night, the hallways that were filled with waves of animosity, thinly veiled threats, and a constant battle to the top, felt too empty. The silence was nice, but perhaps too unnatural. Pondering for a moment, Seiichi thought that as long as he was here, he might as well take a look at what responsibilities he had as the President of the Beatification Committee. People thought it was a rather silly committee at first, but once they hear his name, all doubts had been cleared away. No, he was not really President of the Beatification Committee; he didn't have time for that. He might as well have been, seeing that for the past two years, he had taken care of the majority of the paperwork. It was only because he had given up those responsibilities for captainship.

When he opened the door, he expected to be alone. The hallway was silent; there was no light coming from under the door, nor were there any sounds. He was wrong. Sitting with he brack to the window, the girl who had played a match on the boys courts sat there with a stack of papers. She had three piles in front of her; one whose top paper was stamped with red, another that was stamped with back-significantly smaller- and a third one that she took a paper from now. It was as if she didn't even know he was there. Somehow, this room was more peaceful than the empty hallways. He reached into one of the cabinets and pulled out a folder that said 'Beatification Committee' in black, bold type.

It was only when he closed the door, sat down, and had taken up a pen himself that she acknowledged him. "Hello," she said, still not looking up from her work, now scribbling furiously on a paper, making many notes in the margin.

"Hello," he said in reply. He set his gaze on her for a few moments, wondering if it was pure luck that the girl was enveloped by the rays of the moon, or if she had strategically sat there. He smiled a little bit; though nobody would outright tease him, he could imagine people chuckling because he had such an imaginative mind. It was the mind of a painter, after all, and this would be a pretty picture, even if the majority of her face was covered in small shadows, and her face held no emotion on it.

The Beatification Committee did not have very much work. It was a total of ten pages, but he worked slowly, looking up at the girl across from him every now and then. If he didn't know any better, he would say that the silence between them was strained since neither of them introduced each other. But he was Yukimura Seiichi, and he was fairly sure that she knew of him and thought the silence was too precious to break. He knew her as well, and if she was smart enough to be on the Student Council, he guessed that she was also intelligent enough to realize that a Rikkaidai captain always knows exactly who is on their courts at all times, and what they are doing there.

So even if they never did have a formal introduction, they knew each other.

She worked quickly, he noticed, and he wondered how she could be here for so long when he presumed she worked at a constant pace. More ruthless than the last treasurer, for the forms she was refusing could only be requests from clubs. More sensible than the last treasurer, who accepted every proposal and squandered Rikkaidai's funds. Most likely, this girl had to save because there was nothing more to spend.

After half an hour, she was finally done, and he pretended that he had not finished ages ago and shuffled his papers away briefly before she got up to put hers away. His eyes followed where she put the piles, and he found that there was a much larger stack she placed them on top before weighing them down with a rather large paperweight. There were too many of them to fit into the cubby hole that treasury had.

Seiichi held the door for her on her way out, and she gave him a slight bow before they walked side by side down the hallways. Only then, did she seem to realize that it was Yukimura Seiichi that had been in the room with her. After he made it out of the door too, she bowed deeply and apologized. "My apologies, Yukimura-" she looked him in the eye and broke off, seeing something fragile there, something vulnerable. He was the child of God, and despite his greatness, he was still a child. He had wisdom, more so than many their age, but less than an adult would. She reworded her sentence. "I'm sorry, Yukimura-san," she said, settling on a lesser suffix than she originally decided on.

"Sorry for what?" In that room, everything felt right, but now that they were out in the halls, it felt as though social rules applied. In that room, he had just been Seiichi, and she had been his equal. It was no longer the case. At least, he noticed, that she refrained from calling him Yukimura-sama, like so many others did. After a while, it became uncomfortable. He almost shook his head- it shouldn't have been uncomfortable, and he should be upset at this girl for not calling him with the proper suffix. He could not bring himself to, not when he felt so comfortable walking by her side. Her stride was not overly ambitious or purposeful, nor was it meek. She walked similarly to him when he was alone, and he found that slowing his pace down a little made him feel better, see clearer, feel more firm in his steps.

In his conflicting emotions, his tone came out a little malicious, but he did not mind; he wanted to see how she would react. They walked for a few more steps before she answered. "For not introducing myself to you. My name is Mitsuwa Akemi, and I am from class 3-A."

It was not what she apologized for; she apologized for not noticing hi, the Child of God, the captain of the boy's national tennis team, the pinnacle of Rikkaidai. He knew that, but with her response, he let her go. Still feeling some sort of obligation to hold to what he was perceived as in school, he smiled at her and said, "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Yukimura Seiichi from 3-C."

They walked for a little while longer, and Seiichi found it odd that the girl did not converse with him, but seeing that she was a transfer, he could only guess that this was normal for her. He was lying to himself, of course, because he knew quite a lot about the transfer student; news got around quickly, and gossip spread like wildfire. Apparently, she followed all of the social rules of Rikkaidai, and did not make a mistake yet. She knew her place, conversed when she was expected to, and fell right into place. It was like she belonged, but was an for a moment, she said, "Excuse me."

She walked into the technical room and flipped off some switches. The lights outside went off. Akemi turned on the lights because she saw him there, and now that he was no longer out there, they were unnecessary. The action did not go unnoticed by Seiichi, but he did not comment on it.

Parting ways at the gate, Seiichi was certain that she purposely walked the opposite direction of him. It looked like she was going to go right, but then she stopped, bowed, said goodbye, and waited for him to leave before going to the left. When he got home, Yukimura felt unusual, and stared up at the moon for a long time.

Neither he nor Akemi got any sleep that night, though it was for vastly different reasons.

* * *

RIP finals

If Akemi seems OP in tennis(which I tried not to do) just blame it on the fact that she's naturally athetic and that her parents made her play sports that may be beneficial later on(as well as doing other activities befitting of a young lady)

Got any questions, shoot me a review or a PM and I'll try to get back to you.

Otherwise, reviews, favorites, and follows brighten up my gloomy mood(love ya grades)


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